


Reid's Tirade

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Sexism, Sexism in the Workforce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10071146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

Dammit, this case needed to be over already. You were going to have to take about a million showers to wash the metaphorical grime off your body. “I need out of here,” you said to JJ and Emily as Hotch and Morgan dealt with the lead officers. Apparently, you still worked in the dark ages when women were supposed to do nothing but walk around in big fluffy dresses, impossibly high heels and corsets that didn’t allow you to breathe, instead of modern-day America where women and men were suppose to work together equally. That would be the day. The officers couldn’t seem to control their mouths around yourself, Emily and JJ, so Hotch decided to run interference. 

“You too?” Emily said. “I feel like I need 18 showers.” She hugged her arms around her body and JJ wiped the grime off her shoulder.

“Do we still work in the 50s?” she asked. “And I feel like even 20 won’t wipe the grime off me.”

“Yea apparently,” you said. “I’m gonna go outside for a few minutes. I need some air. If you need me, send someone out to get me.”

As you walked outside, you felt like you could finally breathe. During the course of this case, the team had come across quite a few women that needed to be interviewed. Mothers and wives of victims. A couple of possible suspects. Some eyewitnesses. And these men had absolutely no finesse. They had no idea how to talk to or interrogate men, no less women, who more than likely wouldn’t respond the same way as men would. Plus, there were a few older ones that seemed to think that women didn’t belong in the work force - no less the police force. Ah, Middle America. Lovely. You couldn’t wait to get back home to DC. 

Taking a deep breath, you leaned your head back into the wall, grounding yourself and your roller-coaster of emotions. Blocking out the world tended to do that for you. Instead, you focused on your breathing, the up and down movements of your chest, the feel of the concrete at the back of your head, the sweet smell of fresh air…which was now contaminated by cigarette smoke. Goddammit. 

One of the officers, late-40s to mid-50s, had walked outside for a cigarette. The smoke wafted closer to you and you coughed, remembering your years as a child, when your grandparents would smoke pack after pack with you in the house. You’d praised the gods when they finally quit. “Sorry, little lady,” the officer said as he leaned against the wall next to you. Though he said sorry, his next puff of smoke was let out in your direction yet again. You were about to show him what a ‘little lady’ you were.

You figured being outside with one of them, or even a few of them, was better than being inside with all of them, so when another couple of officers came back from their lunch break early to smoke against the wall of the station, you stayed there, browsing your phone. But it was really hard to breathe with three cigarettes going simultaneously, so you moved a couple steps to the side the hopefully evade their next puffs. “Why don’t you go inside if the smoke is bothering you?” one of the younger ones said.

“Because we’ve been stuck inside all day and I needed some fresh air,” you replied not looking up from your phone and trying your best not to smack the arrogance out of them. It was truly difficult. Under your breath, you heard the younger one say to the older one that first came out, “This is why women don’t belong on the force, too delicate.”

Okay, now. What?

“Excuse me,” you asked disbelievingly. “What did you just say?”

He tried to backpedal, but you were so far beyond that. Four days of working with these motherfuckers and you were about to blow. “I meant nothing by it, sweetheart.” 

“First of all, I ain’t your sweetheart,” you said, realizing you were about to go off. You took note of their faces so when you went inside you could tell Hotch you wouldn’t be interacting with them anymore. “Second of all, I was out here first and if you can see that the smoke is bothering me, why the fuck do you keep blowing it in my direction? There’s a perfectly good direction, that way, that you could aim your smoke, but you continue doing it toward me.”

“Now I see why they hired you,” the third one chimed in with a laugh. This was going to be good. 

“Why is that?” I dare you. I dare you to speak. You were about to burst. You needed out of this hellhole.

“That face,” the older one said, apparently knowing what the third officer was thinking. “You’re very cute when you’re mad, still wouldn’t have made it here though, gotta have big tits to work for us, don’t you boys?”

It took you a minute to speak because you were so stunned, but by the time you were about to lose your mind, you heard someone speak from behind you. It sounded foreign to you. “Excuse me?” Spencer asked, having come outside to tell you they were about to go over the profile to hone it again. “What did you just say to her?”

“Nothing, man. Nothing,” the first officer said. “You don’t wanna get in our faces either? I really don’t understand what the Bureau is doing hiring women and boys with no muscle.” You were about to just grab Spencer’s arm, tell him to just go inside and forget about it, that they weren’t worth it, but he went off, and it was one of the most glorious things you’d ever seen. 

“Well, to start, Y/N here was hired because she as an IQ of 183, has two Ph.D.’s, one in microbiology and the other in criminology and psychology, and in addition, she’s also a double black belt in Aikido, Karate, Taekwondo, and Jujutsu. As for me, I’m also certifiably a genius with an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory and the ability to read 20,000 words a minute, while you, let’s start with you, I’ve been doing a little research, I hope you don’t mind. You,” Spencer said, pointing to the oldest one, and the one that had come out near you first, “You have two failed marriages under your belt and from what I’ve heard you had to bribe your chief to pass you for your last marksmanship test, because you failed miserably. Even I, the ‘boy with no muscle,’ passed my marksmanship test. And you,” he kept going, calling out the third one for his criminal background that was swept under the rug because the area was so desperate for officers. You were living for this. Sassy Spencer was everything. “And finally, you,” he said, landing on the middle one, the smile from tearing these men to the ground wider than the highways in DC, “you’re truly pathetic. The fact that you even made it onto the force is incredible. Failed marksmanship test, barely passed on the psychological, minor criminal background, but the one thing you did have? A father who was willing to donate to the precinct in order to get you a job. Couldn’t even make it in on your own merit. We had no issue with that,” he said, pointing between the two of you. When he caught your eye, you just smiled. “Now, we’re going to go inside because we have a profile to go over to give to the competent members of your precinct, but not before you apologize to Agent Y/N for what I just heard.” 

Spencer grabbed your hand and brought you up to him as the three officers muttered half-assed ‘sorry’ in your direction. “Good, you ready?” he asked, nodding his head at the officers.

You headed back inside, leaving the stunned officers behind. You could’ve taken care of that yourself, and he knew that, but the fact that he had been so offended on your behalf felt great. “Hey, Spence,” you said, standing up on your tiptoes and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem, Y/N,” he said enveloping you in a hug. “Plus, it was cathartic for me. It was like I was standing up to the bullies that used to torment me, so thank you for letting me go off.”

As you walked into the conference room that the lead officer had given the team for the case, Hotch, along with everyone else, noticed the smiles on your faces, and the lipstick you’d left on Spencer’s cheek. “Care to tell us what happened or…?” Morgan laughed.

“Nothing, you guys,” you said. “I was just the target of some sexist bullshit from a few of our reluctantly-cooperating officers. Spencer overheard them and told them off. The lipstick was from a kiss on the cheek as a thank you.”

“Who was talking what about you, babygirl?” Morgan asked, and as they walked back in, you pointed them out. “Don’t worry, they say anything else, I’ll rough them up a little bit for you.”

“No need,” you said, looking at Spencer. “I think Reid embarrassed them to death. It was awesome.”


End file.
